The Meaning of Life
by x Veela x
Summary: Remus does a little pondering on his own self worth and existence whilst generally feeling sorry for himself and decides that in the end... he's a pretty decent werewolf.


_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own the Harry Potter characters… I just tend to borrow them now and again…_

_I'm sorry I've been so unproductive with regards to writing. I hope I still have a few readers willing to __forgive me by way of reading my latest attempt at getting back into writing. Bear in mind that this has not been beta-d, seeing as a) my usual beta is far too busy doing her A levels to pay attention to me and b) I didn't fancy waiting about another year to post ;). I understand, however, that that is not an acceptable excuse for mistakes._

-x-

_The Meaning of Life_

Once again, the sunshine lost the perpetual game of casting summer brightness over the ancient stone walls of Hogwarts castle; the moon prepared to creep out for its evening reign as the sun turned its fiery attention to warm some other unforgotten part of the world. Logically speaking, Remus mused, the alternative sections of the planet, still also comprised of… earthy earth and salty sea commanded the attention of the fiery centre of the solar system. A smile twitched at the corners of his lips, though the responsible side of him reminded the carefree Marauder that perhaps as a sixth year prefect, one ought not to be setting a rather strange example to the lower years. Even in the wizarding world, talking to yourself was not usually a positive sign. Surely debating whether the orbit of the solar system took a top-down or bottom-up approach teetered precariously on that borderline of insanity.

As his mind tackled educationally questionable concepts such as the aforementioned thoughts, his footsteps lethargically traced aimless patterns across the worn stone floors of his second home. He trailed a roughening hand across each windowsill as he passed them, inexplicably enjoying the way his face was alternately cast into deep shadow, and then alit with an orange glow by the frames cast around each window. The calming effect of ripples across the black lake was slightly blemished by a curling tentacle of the castle's resident giant squid, though one could imagine the silky texture of the cascading water highlighted by the splashing. Nevertheless, the spectacular view of the grounds begged a quiet moment for a fretting watcher. Not usually one to condone disobedience to Mother Nature, Remus took a casual stance, leaning his elbows across the stone ledge, his eyes respectfully feasting on the scenery before him.

Although he attempted to keep his thoughts either distracted or positive, a wistful sigh slipped out of his mouth, the corners of which had lost their amused position, and were now turned down by a characteristic sadness too old for his young years. A few genial Hufflepuffs had attempted to console him at that evening's dinner, beckoning him over to join their gathering at the Hufflepuff table, without a seeming care for the rather empty Great Hall affecting their agreeable conversation.

Perhaps, though that was more due to the fact that whatever the company, both parties were not averse to making light of the situation, good-natured consideration being the theme for the talk. Dotted around them, older couples who had shaken off the novelty of a cosy date on Hogsmeade weekend were snuggled together with a respectable distance from each other, irrespective of Houses. It seemed House unity was a general theme for the evening, as many of the students who were sitting together had one half of the pair at the House table of their partner. At irregular intervals, students in the very lower years kept up a steady chatter with each other, sneaking covert glances at the elder students, as if carefully taking mental note of how they behaved.

All in all, Remus could not ignore that the sheer… for want of a better word… togetherness… of the atmosphere only served to drive his personal situation home. Of course the notion that today served as many national celebrations, a lesser respected muggle notion being Single's Awareness Day as well as the more well known traditions associated with February 14th, was admittedly amusing. However, Remus privately felt that the initials observed were more significant, as many lonely or broken hearts would be feeling sad… both in the meaning of the emotional state and the colloquial phrase.

Now as he meandered along, the familiar feeling of loneliness washed over Remus. James would be in Hogsmeade stalking Lily and the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain on their date. Remus felt a momentary tinge of guilt for suggesting she seduce the poor boy in an attempt to cement James' deflating ego. The Marauder in him shove such a feeling out with the reminder that his plan had been working earlier when James had been seething about the similarities between the two of them, the only significant difference being the levels of arrogance. No doubt Sirius would be tucked into a shady corner of The Three Broomsticks with whatever girl of the week he'd taken out tonight. Even Peter had summoned up the courage to ask out the girl he'd been after and was off planting trees in the greenhouses.

"Remus Lupin? Is that you?" The paunch of his Potions professor came into view, his ancient pocket watch dangling fro the golden chain after being squeezed out of the protesting waistcoat pocket before the round face beamed over at him from over a statue down the corridor.

"Sir?" Remus turned away from his wandering thoughts to bring his mind back from into the present. A shuffling sound dictated the waddle of the teacher towards him, and Remus channelled his more agile frame into taking the lion's share of the journey down the long corridor.

Upon meeting, the elder wheezed, "What are you doing still here?" At Remus's bemused arched eyebrow, he furthered, "Shouldn't you be gallivanting about the town with that young girl you like?" As Remus opened his mouth to deny such an affection, his reply was cut off short, "Nay, young wizard, 'tis no point refuting such a claim. You forget that my eyes have seen the blossom of attraction bloom and wilt many a time before."

Remus ducked his head, "Only third years and above are allowed out into Hogsmeade." He sighed, as if he had repeated this to himself for the better part of the consideration. Or rather, this had become his mantra as he watched a certain blue-haired Ravenclaw second year struggle over her Transfiguration homework in the library for the past few weeks. "Besides," he added, "It's a full moon tomorrow. I should keep up my strength for my recovery." He did not add that a relationship between a sixth year and a second year would be very much frowned on and gossiped about.

"Ah." A wise smile complimented the knowing look the Professor's sparkling eyes took on. "Yes, perhaps you might accompany me to collect your magical… assistance for tomorrow evening? Poppy will be running a little late tomorrow as I recollect hearing that the new Mandrakes have sprouted. Surely she shall be along to go along with you tomorrow, though the less strain she has, the more smiles she bestows." The imperative was mitigated, though Remus recognized the minimal amount of choice. An amiable conversation was struck up between Professor and prefect as they set off for the darker sections of the castle. Remus felt the darkness weigh heavily upon his broad shoulders as he dutifully followed the wizard to the old dungeons.

Even though merry flames flickered enthusiastically along the walls, the drop in temperature was greatly felt by Remus, matching the sinking of his heart that he forced himself to endure every month along the trek to collect his Wolfsbane Potion. He disliked the pretence he put up to his teachers after his friends were putting in so much effort to make his transformations more bearable for him. He felt he did not so much deserve the painful glances they gave him when they thought he was not looking. Of course the affliction he suffered was indeed painful and regrettable, though he disliked sharing the burden with his superiors. Still, their whispers of the tragic nature of the situation that his young body ought not to have such agony did not so much bother him any more. A secret flame that his comrades wanted, not to share, but to improve to a more tolerable level the vicious transformation he would undergo, meant so much more.

Another sigh remained inside him as he imagined his future. His friends featured as a certainty, though the nagging want for just a bit more pulled at the edges of his mind. He remembered watching his mother and father as a young boy, something clicking into place in his mind as he did so. He _wanted_ that. Remus did not just want to observe, he wanted to be _part of_ a pair. Each time he attempted to take up the role of outcast he assumed fate had assigned him, a favourite fantasy of being loved for who he was by the witch he wanted crept upon him like a guilty pleasure.

Though that in itself presented him with yet another problem. Even if he had never been bitten, he may still have never caught the eye of the witch he wanted. Admittedly, he may not have been destined to be as poor as he would be, he may be able to get a proper job, though his studious ways and courteous manner could not possibly attract such witches. Though what could have been is still part of what will be. He had always tended to like the younger girls; witches who felt confident and loud enough to express themselves… girls who were free… girls who were everything he was not.

Remus dwelled upon such thoughts whilst staring into the sapphire flames licking the sturdy cauldron perched upon the front row of desks in the Potions classroom. He did not listen intently to the scuffling of pieces of parchment as his professor searched for the customary vial for his potion, though waited for the triumphant "Aha!" to break away from his reverie.

He determinately hitched a smile in place as he gratefully held out a hand for the vial. As he was about to turn back after professing his thanks, he felt a warm hand rest gently upon his shoulder. "Ask her out." His Professor's usually bouncy voice was low with serious suggestion.

Remus looked to the man, wondering if he was really so transparent, only to be met with a kind smile before feeling a gentle push to his shoulder, signalling that he was dismissed. Stowing the vial beneath his robes with a nod, his own smile turning somewhat curious, Remus continued on his path out of the dungeons, evening summoning up the energy for a small jog up the Entrance Halls' long steps to the first floor. As he rounded a corner he collided with something soft, emitting an "Oof" he mirrored himself.

He looked down just in time to catch an armful of second year, her bright blue hair disarrayed from the impact. Disregarding the rules for one small moment of selfishness, Remus drew his wand to collect her spilled belongings together from where they had scattered, neatly replacing them into the rag-tag bag tossed from her shoulder. He could not restrain a chuckle as he heard her swear before disentangling herself from him. She spun around to pick up her spread out items before turning back to find him holding her bag, which heralded some wizard band too unique to be popular, out apologetically to her. "I'm sorry," he told her, "I shouldn't have been running around corners." He mocked himself.

The second year that had taken up most of the thoughts he should not have been allowing himself smiled back at him, slinging the bag back over her shoulder and putting a hand on her hip, "A _prefect_ such as yourself shouldn't b using magic in the corridors either." She scolded him, though her words were given away by her tone laced with amusement.

Remus cast a hand against his forehead dramatically, "On no! How will I ever live with myself?!" He exclaimed before smiling conspiratorially at her, "Shhh." He pressed a finger to his lips before turning back to his original path. He wondered when she would notice the parchment he had slipped into her copy of Transfiguration Today. To be honest with himself, after chickening out of giving her the hints he had written for her Transfiguration work in the library today, Remus felt quite smug that he had found a more Marauder-worthy way.

He wouldn't expect her to return his affection, though his noble Gryffindor heart insisted that she would appreciate his help. In spite of everything, although he gave the appearance of being a studious, hardworking prefect, deep down he was a Marauder at heart. He pondered upon his meaning of life as he later reclined on his four poster bed in Gryffindor tower, listening to James muffling Lily's laughter under the impression that he was being quiet. One day, one of those carefree witches may fix their sights on him. It would be selfish of him to decline, he mused; after all… he liked making girls happy.

-x-

_Reviews would be appreciated – especially constructive criticism._


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